Isobel blanched at his words, but nodded slowly.
A long moment stretched, and then Rafael casually took off his jacket and threw it on the arm of a nearby chair before going over and sitting down. Isobel turned and watched him warily.
With his elbows on the armrests, his face cast into dark shadow, he looked at her and said throatily, ‘Take off your clothes.’
Isobel just looked back at him, cold horror trickling through her. ‘You want me to take my clothes off…here?’
Rafael inclined his head, barely leashed patience reaching out to envelop her. He drawled, ‘It’s not a riddle, Isobel.’
Isobel stalled again, knowing in every fibre of her body that she’d pushed him too far tonight and this was the consequence of her actions. She knew she couldn’t leave now. To do so would cause irreparable damage. There was a delicate thread of trust here, and it wouldn’t take much to break it. Even so, she asked huskily, unaware of the vulnerable quality in her voice, ‘You want to make love here?’
Rafael was clearly not going to indulge her for long. He bit out, ‘Believe me, Isobel, either you take your clothes off now, or I’ll take them off for you—and I can’t guarantee that they’ll survive without being ripped again.’
Amidst the stomach-churning nerves and humiliation, Isobel felt a violent frisson of thrill and need rush through her. She concentrated on that, clinging to it like an anchor in the midst of a storm of self-recrimination at how utterly exposed she’d let herself become.
Rafael sat back like an ancient king, surveying his concubine, lean and powerful in the chair. With heat flaring in her belly, Isobel reached for the zip at the side of her dress, under her arm. Finding it, she started to pull it down, her fingers grazing her too sensitive skin, making goosebumps pop up.
All of a sudden she couldn’t bear his cool regard and turned around. For a second tears pricked her eyes. She’d never in a million years imagined her first time would be like this—but then everything she’d expected and wanted had morphed out of all existence since she’d met this man.
The zip on her dress gave way with a sound that was unbearably loud in the quiet room, with only the dying crackles of the embers of the fire. With a deep breath Isobel let the dress fall to her waist, baring her back to Rafael.
Taking another deep breath, the tears prickling ominously and making her throat clog, Isobel pulled at the dress until it gave way, and let it drop to the floor at her bare feet. Closing her eyes for a long moment, feeling completely naked in just a slight pair of panties, she crossed her arms over her breasts and turned around.
Rafael was like a stone statue. Not moving a muscle. Just his eyes moved, all the way up from her feet…
Isobel’s skin prickled as she stood there.
‘Take your arms down. I want to see all of you.’
Biting her lip so hard that she tasted blood, Isobel finally let her arms drop, clenching her hands into fists. She had to consciously block out the poisonous thought that he would be comparing her to his more voluptuous ex-fiancée.
Where Rafael’s gaze rested on her breasts, which felt inadequately small, she felt as though he’d touched her with a physical caress. The tips grew tight and she could feel them puckering, growing hard, aching for his touch, for his mouth. She wanted him so badly it was a physical pain, but he was intent on humiliating her.
Suddenly she knew she couldn’t do this. Not standing before him like this, like some slave girl being bought. And not with the vivid memory of his stunning ex-fiancée so recent. Knowing that he’d loved her so passionately. With a strangled cry Isobel covered her breasts and said brokenly, ‘I can’t do this…like this. I’m sorry, Rafael.’
She turned around again, dropped her head. Tears were burning her eyes in earnest now.
Suddenly she felt movement behind her. Rafael had taken her arm to pull her back to face him. She felt a finger come to her chin, forcing her head up, and Rafael’s voice was unbearably harsh. ‘Isobel, I swear to God, you go too far this time—’
Then he stopped, and Isobel realised that he must have seen a tear escape.
‘Open your eyes,’ he said.
She shook her head, bit her lip again. And then Rafael undid her completely by cupping her jaw with his hands and smoothing his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away the tears. She opened her eyes and looked up through a blur, arms still tight around her chest.
‘I’ve never done this before, Rafael…I’m sorry that I can’t be more sophisticated, but I…’ a shuddering sigh came out ‘…I don’t know how to seduce you.’
Rafael went very still. ‘What are you saying?’
Her tears were clearing. She could see his face now, that beautiful sensual mouth. Heat was building again. His body was so close to hers.
‘I’ve never slept with anyone.’
Rafael frowned, and then he uttered something that sounded like a curse. He must have seen something on her face because he suddenly said, ‘No, not you. I’m not angry with you. I thought…I suspected you might be innocent…but then when you said you’d had lovers…’
Isobel shook her head. ‘I was angry. I didn’t want you to know I was a virgin.’
Rafael snaked a hand around the back of her head, cradling it, and drew her in closer to his body. ‘You’re not saying you don’t want to do this?’